Limitless (A Dragon Ball SI)
by TLWillow
Summary: In life and in death, bonds of love can form across time and space, and the strongest ones can never be broken. A story about family, friendship, and adventure.
1. Chapter 1

The Other World was nothing less than magnificent. The vast realm radiated a brilliant, welcoming glow. As far as the eye could see, gargantuan, sparkling clouds covered its entirety in an ocean of gold. Here and there, the tips of heavenly structures could be seen cresting the surface.

She hated looking at it.

Her weathered face twisted into a wrinkled sneer from her perch on her crystal ball, and she looked down on the cloudscape dispassionately. Over two centuries worth of visits, and the place still looked like blindingly bright, lemon flavored cotton candy stuffed with cheap toys made of stone.

"Tch." The old witch scoffed. "Honestly, they have more style down in _Hell."_ Grumbling the way only a centenarian could, the renowned fortuneteller Baba floated down toward and into to the gaudiest building of them all, heedlessly jostling the procession of souls through the ridiculously large front door, ignoring the disordered queue she left in her wake.

"Yemma!" she squawked. As she rapidly zipped through the halls, many ogres tripped and stumbled, shouting as their careful routines were abruptly disturbed and their paper stacks sent flying. "I'm here, you old demon. What is it you want? We don't have that appointment until next week!"

"Hold your tongue, witch!" King Yemma's voice reverberated throughout the palace in a booming echo, causing small tremors and startling many into shouting in fear. She scoffed again and continued to mutter expletives under her breath, eliciting scandalized gasps from a few doddering ogres.

When she finally came to a halt, she unceremoniously snapped at a fearful soul standing at the bottom of an absolutely massive desk to "move out of the way!" and looked up to give the enormous ogre king a droll stare. After a long moment of tense silence, King Yemma abruptly pounded a fist on the wooden desk, making several ogres jump in fear. "Don't you look at me like that, Baba! With your record I could send you straight to Hell, this instant!"

"For a hundred and fifty years you've threatened me with that drivel, Yemma. Now tell me the reason I was torn away from making the biggest fortune I've seen in a decade! That foolish noble was about to pay top dollar for a silly love fortune!"

"You just wait, you old hag." King Yemma snarled. "One of these days you're going to finally kick the bucket, and then! Ohohohoho, _then_ you're at the mercy of my judgement!"

"Enough of this nonsense, you old fool," Baba snapped irately, "And tell me why I'm here!"

King Yemma leaned back in his chair with a gruff exhale, and turned his head to look behind him, then back again, now serious. "You," he ordered an bespectacled ogre with two horns and a perpetual smile. "Clear this room immediately."

"Yes, your majesty." Tens of souls complained and shouted when the ogre began to camly escort them out.

"What is this! I've been waiting for three years for an audience with you!"

"Please, please your Highness! I just want to see my family! Please don't do this!"

King Yemma's eye twitched, and he bore the annoyance until a vein began to throb in his forehead. The rising cacophony of wails, outbursts and complaints proved to be too much for him, and he stood up so quickly his gargantuan chair was knocked over to the side, crashing to the floor and making the room tremble.

"ENOUGH." he boomed, and the noise was silenced immediately. "THE NEXT WRETCHED SPIRIT TO UTTER ANOTHER WORD WILL BE SENTENCED TO AN _ETERNITY_ IN **_HELL!"_**

They scattered faster than the ogre servant could escort them, and so he amicably shrugged and waited until the last soul turned tail before closing the doors with a loud boom. He bowed. "It's done, your majesty. I'll leave you and the witch to your business."

"Good. Thank you."

Baba, who had watched the chaos with an indifferent expression, finally spoke up again when they were left alone, asking flatly: "What business do you have with me, Yemma?"

The ogre king put his chair right and sagged in it, exposing his exhaustion. He sighed gruffly and rubbed his eyes. "First real break in over 30 years straight...pardon me while I collect myself." Baba silently complies, and after a minute or two Yemma straightened up and turned his chair with his back to his desk, gesturing for Baba to come closer. "Look here."

The old witch floated up and over Yemma's desk and up to hover over his shoulder, and finally laid eyes on what he meant to show her.

The cloudy form of a spirit floated before them, but it was nothing like a spirit Baba had ever seen. While most were colored some shade of white, this one shone a brilliant gold, and emitted sparkles.

"What is this, Yemma?" Baba immediately shoved the entirety of her person into Yemma large face, ignoring his look of annoyance. "You had me summoned from earth to look at a measly Other World ghost? What, did that blasted genie finally drop dead after all those years of being useless?"

"You know Other World natives are immortal, foolish woman."

"Then?"

"That," Yemma drawled, while pushing Baba by the crystal ball out of his face with an enormous meaty finger. "Is the spirit of a human."

This revelation, along with Yemma's tone (which left no room for argument against his expertise) stopped Baba cold. "What…?"

"Look closer. Listen." They both leaned in, Yemma resting his arms on his knees. Baba peered closer at the shimmering spectre. A low, forlorn keening sound could be heard coming from within the soul in a long, continuous sigh.

She straightened up and crossed her arms within her sleeves with a hmph. "Not a death from natural causes, I'm assuming."

"No. That much, at least, I'm certain of. Otherwise it wouldn't be making such a noise." Yemma leaned back in his chair and linked his hands together over his large belly."This is nothing like I've ever seen before, not in all my time." He studied the sparkling ghost, his eyes sharp with intense scrutiny. "An enigma if I've ever seen one; not murder, nor an accident."

"As...interesting, as this is, I fail to see what this has to do with me."

They looked at each other then, and Baba did not like the solemn look on his face.

Not one bit.

* * *

It's in age 733, when he has to stretch his legs a little longer after waking, and takes tea to ease his joints, that Son Gohan realizes he's getting old. So of course, he intensified his training to stave off the creeping mortality. Sometimes he does this by doing countless katas until sundown, and other times by taking long walks in the surrounding jungles of Mount Paozu.

When he finds the little girl wandering around the jungle, dangerously close to a cougar's den, Gohan receives the strangest sense of an imminent change.

She's in nothing but a simple white dress, as pristine as a child in their Sunday best. She displays no indication of wandering for very long; no dirt on her face or tears in her clothes, and her wild black, springy curls aren't matted from the humidity of the deep jungle. They stare at each other for a good, long moment, until Gohan breaks the ice by introducing himself, and then asking just what on Earth a little girl is doing here so deep in the jungle. He wonders why the cougars (starving and vicious as they always were) didn't immediately sense prey so close to their territory and pounce when they had the opportunity.

"I just got here and started walking." She says plainly. Gohan notices how her eyes look not quite as innocent as a girl her age should be, but she tells the truth, as her bare feet are somewhat smudged with dirt.

She answers as many questions as she can. She is five and does not remember what her parents look like, nor does she remember her own name. She woke up on the jungle floor about mile from here (Gohan knows because of the ravine by the river she describes), and she does not know where she is. He notes how eloquently she speaks for a child, and it makes him curious. But she is alone, with nowhere to go.

It's without a second thought that Son Gohan takes her to his home.

She stays a while, and does everything she is told without fuss. She's demure and calm, but not without temper. Her bursts of anger seem to stem from frustration at her own limitations, as if her mind was years ahead of her body. In time it's revealed that she is in fact wise far beyond her years.

Gohan discovers many things in their time together; she knows how to clean, and cook simple dishes. Yet she cooks the noodles for too long and insists with a very strong conviction that they're meant to be so, and she oftens leaves the tea to boil on the fire rather than steeping it in hot water, making it much too strong. Gohan is baffled one morning when he wakes to find she had spilled flour all over the floor, in an attempt to make some sort of breakfast pastry he's never heard of. Much to his amusement she immediately and furiously blames her tiny body and lack of muscle mass for the accident, but makes an effort to clean up her mess regardless.

"I'm sorry," she says contritely, after working in a long and sullen silence alongside him. Gohan chuckles and helps her up, and leads her to the washbasin where he tenderly cleans her powdered face.

"It's no trouble. We have plenty for more noodles, and I appreciate your kindness."

"It's half gone...I really thought I could lift it." Her face is scrunched up in the most adorable manner of disgruntlement, and Gohan takes to the opportunity to playfully poke her nose and dust it in flour. Her expression changes to one of such bewilderment that the old man can't help but laugh out loud.

They both end up covered in flour that afternoon, a mess of giggles and white powder.

She's very sweet, Gohan muses to himself a month later while he watches her collect small sticks for wood for a fire. In the middle of her task she ends up in a scowling match with a playful wolf cub, adamant on leaving with her collection despite the baby canine attaching itself to one stick with its teeth. He chuckles. And perhaps a tad bitter.

The tug-of-war continues until (with a grunt full of clenched teeth and a mighty pull) she prevails, landing on her rear. The cub yips and runs away, but her smug smile quickly drops when it returns with a pack of its siblings, and she is buried in wolf cubs. She cries out in dismay as her collection of sticks are strewn about, but it soon becomes a string of strangled giggles as she struggles with the cubs constantly tickling her with their fur and licking her face. The mother lopes forward and sits next to Gohan, and the two of them watch on as the children play.

"Adorable, aren't they?" He remarks. The she-wolf huffs.

That night, when he tucks her in to sleep (in her brand new futon) after a warm meal of dumplings and soup, something miraculous happens to his heart.

She smiles sleepily up at him and moves forward to give him a hug. "G'night, grandpa…"

That night, when he hugs her back, he gives his new granddaughter a new name.

"Good night, Coco."


	2. Chapter 2

She sees the robot wherever she goes.

From the time she woke up in the jungles of Mount Paozu a year ago, it was there. It stood there, with an expressionless face that looked like a gasmask and simply looked at her, its head cocked. Then a strange bird cawed in the distance and it moved away.

Usually it hangs out in trees, watching her. Other times she'd just see it wandering around aimlessly, accompanied by a blue bird in a white shirt. She can never get close enough to it before it vanishes, but the one time she does, it disappears after she blinks. Yet, it's always there, watching.

She elects to ignore it for now, and just live her life.

Her days with Gohan are the kind of peace that Coco (she loved her name as much as she loved him) always felt she needed, even if she didn't quite remember anything else. It isn't easy, since he lives out in the middle of a mountain all by himself.

They often do chores along with Mount Paozu's other inhabitants, mostly older people like her grandfather, along with their children and grandchildren (only a handful of families altogether). Everyone shares a massive field that they farm together, and they split the harvest amongst one another. This means that Coco has to get up very early, before sunrise, and she and Grandpa Gohan walk a long mile or two, depending on the trail they take. She hates everything about waking up before dawn; the sliver of sunlight that seems to always shine right on her eyes no matter how she tosses and turns at night, and the shock of the freezing water with which she washes her face each morning. But she powers on through, determined to be helpful.

Since she is one of the few children under seventeen in their district, Coco finds herself doing the smaller things in the field. Rather than helping the women with the rice, or the men with the carrots, radishes and burdock roots, she helps the little boys feed the chickens and herd the sheep. Sometimes she gets lucky and helps the older ladies milk cows, and doesn't have to deal with being the only girl in a pack of hooting and hollering boys.

"Why don't you play with the other children, dear?" one such elderly woman asks as they sit next to each other by the udders of a cow. They look at the boys, who are a little ways away from them, shouting in excitement and hitting each other with sticks that are swords in their imagination.

Coco frowns. "They're loud and obnoxious," she huffs. "And they tease me a lot, about my skin and my hair, so I don't see why I have to take it."

"That's certainly a practical way of looking at things." The woman smiles then, and a mischievous twinkle enters her eye. "Do they often say things that imply you can't do things because you're a girl?"

"Yes, but I know I can. I do the things they do every day. I don't have to prove anything."

"Ah, you say that, child, but I can see it in your eyes. You want to go on adventures with them."

Coco paused. "...They'd never let me. Besides, I get on okay without friends. Grandpa and I have fun."

"But it isn't the same, dear. You act to old for a little girl your age. Go, have fun and show them what you can do. Don't become an old lady like me before you even grow up!"

"Hush all that nonsense, you old bitty!" another elder snaps, making them both jump. "Stop teaching that girl such silly things. Young lady," A sterner woman leans over to peer severely at them from around the legs of her cow. "There is nothing more important in this life than hard work and responsibility!"

"Don't listen to her," the first woman whispers conspiratorially, leaning in and covering her mouth. "She's only angry because she married early and has more wrinkles than me!"

The second woman bristles. "I heard that, you little—!"

"Go, go now," the first one laughs. "Before she throws the extra bucket at us!"

Coco tries to protest, but the old woman shoos her away.

When she approaches the boys, they all stop in their tracks and stare for a moment.

"Hey look you guys!" the leader of the group (the tallest, pale despite working in the field, with only a single braided lock of hair on the top of his head) calls. "It's Choco!"

"I'm Coco."

"What do you want?"

Coco shuffles her feet, suddenly nervous. She steels herself and picks up one of the discarded sticks, and holds it up in both hands like a sword. "I want to play too."

They all laugh.

"Don't be silly, you're just a girl," one says. "Go back and help the old ladies milk the cows."

"Yeah!" the rest of them chorus.

"Why can't I play? I've done all my chores, just like you."

"It's fighting," the leader stresses. "You'd just get hurt."

It isn't mean, but it's still condescending, and it makes Coco's blood boil out of control.

She lunges forward and swings her stick, striking him in the chest and, surprisingly, knocking him back a few feet. This is met with a small moment of shock and then immediate jeers and reprimands from everyone.

"Hey! You can't do that in an honorable fight!"

Coco finds herself saying, "There's no such thing."

"You're a little brat," the leader says, puffing out his chest. "Fine, I'll teach you a lesson!"

"Yeah! Get her, Ling!"

"Show her who's boss!"

Coco glares up at the boy who stomps towards her and tightens her grip on the stick, charging with a yell before he's cleared half the distance between the crowd and her.

Then the stick is jarred from her hands by the stronger swing coming at her, and she barely sees the return swing before everything erupts into stars and she finds herself staring up at the sky with the sound of people talking reaching her ears like it's coming from underwater.

"Just go do whatever stuff that little girls do," she vaguely hears the distorted voice say. "It's no fun picking on weaklings."

* * *

She doesn't tell Grandpa Gohan what happened that day. All the adults were otherwise occupied and didn't notice, yet she can't help but feel that he knows somehow.

She asks him anyway. "Grandpa, I want to learn how to fight."

Gohan blinks. "What? Whatever for, my child?"

"I want to train with you, so I can get stronger."

"Are those little boys bothering you? I can talk to their parents. There's no need for you to fight, violence never solves anything, you know..."

"But I want to learn!"

Gohan sighs, and then kneels to her eye level and puts his hands on her shoulders. "Coco, I can't in good conscience teach you how to fight if you want to learn for the wrong reasons."

Coco persisted. "But how will I prove that I'm not weak, if I can't get stronger than the boys?"

"I'll tell you what." Gohan straightens up and readjusts his pack, looking down at her seriously. From her place, so much shorter than him, it looks to Coco as if he's speaking from his mustache. "If you can give me a noble enough reason to learn to fight, then I will teach you. Until then, remember this: the best fight is the one you walk away from." For a moment, neither of them say anything, and simply stand there as the sun sets behind them casting a fiercely orange glow. Noticing this, Gohan's expression softens slightly, and he asks, "Now, shall I carry you home, my dear? I know it's been a very long day."

"No," Coco says sullenly. "I'm going to walk."

She doesn't speak to him at all that night; not during dinner, and not when they go to bed, sliding into their own futons. Coco falls asleep, stewing in the unfairness of it all.

* * *

If Coco's days are peaceful, her nights are anything but.

Every night when she closes her eyes, her dreams are wrought with visions of a life she can't remember. They disappear as soon as she wakes up, and her eyes are always full of tears. The dreams leave behind an overwhelming sense of sorrow, unrest, hopelessness and regret that she can't understand, no matter how hard she tries.

She's happy with Grandpa. Why do her dreams tell her otherwise? Why does she feel like she's left so many things behind, when she's never known anything else?

They often interchange, her dreams. Some nights, she dreams of nothing at all, only she is stuck in the eternal darkness, alone and screaming in agony. Other times she dreams of flashes of pink and a smooth, crystal ball, snapping irately at her, though she can't recall or understand what's being said.

She keeps them to herself, though they only get worse with time. If Grandpa Gohan notices at all, he doesn't comment.

After one of her recurring dreams about a large door that led to a realm of titanic, spiralling columns of fire and puzzles, Coco finds herself awake long before dawn. Instead of trying to return to sleep, she looks at Gohan's futon to confirm his absence, then quietly slips out of bed and out of her white dress (she uses it for sleeping now; it's comfy despite having outgrown it) and into the one of the sleeveless work gi that Gohan had one of the field ladies tailor for her. Silently, she slips out of the hut and walks outside, ignoring the sounds of crickets chirping and animals slowly shuffling to life in their dens, and concentrating on the noises of rustling cloth, low grunting, and limbs striking trees.

She hides behind a thick tree trunk and watches Gohan's movements with sharp attention to every detail. Every punch, every kick, and every movement of his limbs as he shifts from one stance to another is painstakingly recorded as much as her childlike mind can handle. She mimics his movements to get a feel of how he avoids an imaginary assailant and kicks as high as she can to copy the counterattack. Only, she lets out a small noise as Gohan shouts a kiai!

Immediately he stops and listens. Coco stills, and doesn't dare to even breathe. Then, when he relaxes and continues on with his routine, Coco doesn't hesitate to all but fly back to the hut as quick as her legs can carry her.

She'll show those little assholes today, she's sure of it.

* * *

It goes about as well as Gohan expects, which is not well at all.

He says nothing when Coco hisses at the soaked cloth touching her swollen cheek. Quietly, he pauses and lets her gain her bearings before returning to the task at hand.

"And what have we learned, today?"

Coco's face looks as if she had eaten a sour lemon. "The best fights are the ones you walk away from."

"So nothing, then."

Coco snarls, then hisses again as Gohan returns the cloth dipped in sake to a scrape on her jaw.

* * *

Each day, after her chores are done, Coco challenges Ling. Each day, she loses. Some days he doesn't even acknowledge her, and the group, following his example, pretends she doesn't exist. Most days though, when the group expects her timely approach and cheers as if it were a tournament battle against the reigning champion, she ends up on the ground, her eyes comically spiralling as stars dance around her head and across her vision.

Every time she makes an attempt to utilize a new move she had learned from observing her grandfather, she only manages to catch Ling off guard before he bounces back and takes her down. Coco views these as setbacks; she's only six, and Ling is eight and change, and much bigger than she is. Yet despite their differences, Coco knows that no one can match the absolute lividity she feels when she overhears Ling's parents talking with her grandfather. She hides behind a nearby hut and listens to the father asking Gohan to train his son, as he showed great promise. She narrowed her eyes when Ling subtly puffed up his chest, looking proud of himself. Ling's father asking her grandfather to train him.

The flame in Coco's heart explodes into an roaring inferno when Gohan tells the man he'll consider it.

* * *

"Why do you want to fight, young man?"

"To be the strongest in the village, and protect everyone!

"I see."

* * *

One morning, Coco wakes to find Gohan still in the house. Instead of training outside, he's packing.

She doesn't say anything (having not spoken to him for several weeks, they've fallen into a bit of a cold shoulder), and simply watches him pack rations, toiletries and his other outfit into a small bag.

"Today, I'll take you down to the field, but you'll have to go home with Pli and her family." he says quietly.

"Where are you going?" Coco blurts out, foregoing her vow of silence in a moment of panic.

"There's someone that I need to visit."

The fabric of Coco's blanket twists in her clenched hands, and she can't calm herself down. Her mind is racing, and her heart begins to pound.

Was he leaving because of her behavior? Had he had enough of her? She didn't dare think past that, lest she break down in tears.

Her inner turmoil must have shown on her face, because in the next moment she felt her futon give beneath Gohan's weight as he sat in front of her.

"Look at me, Coco." She doesn't; his voice sounds so serious and she just knows that it's her fault and he's passing her off to another family because he doesn't want her anymore and—

Her chin is lifted and she's forced to look at Gohan...smiling at her?

"Coco, my darling girl. Please tell me what's troubling you.

She stares at him for a moment before her eyes grow warm and her vision blurs. Her lips tremble of their own accord and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry!" she wails. She feels his arms wrap around her, safe and secure, and feels his chest rumble as he quietly hums.

"I know you only mean well, dear. It's alright." He soothingly strokes her back and Coco can't handle it. She wrenches herself from his embrace and hugs herself.

"B-but I didn't!" She gasps. "I went behind your back and did what you told me not to and I d-didn't l-listen and n-now you're t-tired of me!"

"Coco…" He pauses and lets her cry it out, letting her vent about everything, and when she was finally done (her sobs reduced to ugly hiccups and sniffles), he brought her in close again, tighter this time.

"From the moment I named you, you became my family. No matter what you do, no matter what you say or what you become in the future, I will always, always love you. Always."

Coco sniffs and wipes her eye, and tearfully looks up at Gohan.

Her grandfather's kind eyes stare back at her, wrinkled in a soft smile and creased with love.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen…"

"I'm sure you've learned your lesson, dear. And if you haven't, you will." He playfully pinches her cheek and a small giggle escapes her. "You're very smart."

"...But I'm not strong." Coco frowns. "I just want to be strong, like you. But I won't fight Ling anymore. It isn't working."

"Not so." Coco looks up, confused. Grandpa holds up a finger (he does that every time he say something wise). "What makes a person strong in body is not simply talent, but practice and dedication. I didn't learn martial arts in a day, you know."

"So...fighting all the time made my body stronger?"

"It doesn't hurt as much as the first time, does it?"

"No."

"But to learn to fight, you need to have the right reason." He lifts her chin with a finger, and then gently pokes her nose. "When you find your reason, I promise to teach you. But, until then...please, no more fighting."

"...I promise."

By the time they let each other go, the sun has risen. Coco has changed and Gohan explains that he's going to visit someone he knew a long time ago, and that he'd be back in one week.

"I don't look forward to being in the city for any period of time," He grumbles, and for a moment, Coco sees him as a crotchety old man. "Westerners are simply so strange."

"I'll miss you, Grandpa."

"And I you, my dear."

When they reach the field and Coco is left with Pli (a kind lady with a round face, who always has her baby always strapped to her back), Coco hugs Gohan fiercely, and a part of her hopes that holding him tight enough may keep him here with her.

A minute later she is forced to let go, and she watches him until he disappears over a large hill. As Pli leads her away, the robot sits in plain sight on the corner of her vision, watching her.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, this is chapter two! I hope you like it!**

 **As always, comments are welcome. ^-^**


	3. Chapter 3

Pli is a nice woman. She's plump and short, and her full cheeks are always rosy. She's warm and kind and inviting, and is a great cook, so Coco takes advantage and diligently learns every dish the sweet woman is willing to teach her. Her baby girl Ton is cute, and also plump with rosy cheeks. She likes to babble giggle and play with Coco's springy hair whenever she carries her for Pli, which Coco allows. The two of them have taken to her almost instantly, and with the positive and almost loving female influence in her life, Coco can imagine that she would like staying at Pli's home more often.

That is, if Ling wasn't her son.

Her husband Dumple isn't much of a joy to be around either.

Like his wife, he was on the rounder side, but to an impossible extent that almost defied his daily life of hard labor, and occasional wrestle with predatory animals.

Immediately, she can see where Ling had gotten his condescending streak from. It isn't anything born of malice, at least. It manifests in an inflated sense of pride at being the most well off in the community; the biggest house, the prettiest wife, and a whole long list of things that Dumple just loved boast about, the most recent of which being his now "prodigal fighter" of a son.

"I could see it in his eyes, that Gohan knew you were a real champion! A chip off the odd block you are, boy!" Dumple crows at dinner that night.

Coco frowns, pushing her rice around her curry, turning it from a pristine white to the reddish brown of the sauce.

"I'm going to train and train, and then I'll be able to fend off all those nasty cougars with my bare hands!" Ling crows back.

Coco frowns deeper and her face twists in disgust at the boy talking with his mouth full.

"Whoa there boy, if you want to get that strong, you've got to finish your meal! Pli!" He slapped the table heartily. "Let's get some more rice on the table."

"Of course, dear." Another bowl of steaming white rice is immediately placed on the small table where they were all kneeled, and both Coco and Ton stare as both males begin to wolf down their dinner in a blur of chopsticks and fingers, spraying bits of rice and curry in their midst. Ton's forehead is the unfortunate recipient of a splat of orange-red curry, and the baby's face twists as she makes a gargling sound of disgust. Coco gently wipes it off with the long sleeve of her dress and gathers Ton into her lap.

"There you go," she cooed. "Boys are gross, aren't they?" Coco smiles as Ton babbles cutely and grasps at Coco's nose with a pudgy baby hand.

"You're so good with her, dear." Pli smiles serenely at them as she places yet another bowl of food on the table. "Ton isn't good with strangers, but she seems to like you very much. You'd make such a wonderful big sister."

Coco feels a warm, tingly feeling spread through her body and she blushes softly at the praise, holding the still babbling Ton closer. "I like her too." she mumbles shyly. "Do you really think I could be a good big sister?" Coco's voice falters a little, the end of her sentence sounding stilted as the words this time appear at the tip of her tongue for a reason she can't put her finger on.

"You'd teach her to cook and clean, and do all the chores that you do." Pli cheerfully lists, counting off her fingers. She doesn't notice Coco's face fall a little, and goes on with, "And I'm sure you'd be able to give her such lovely advice on love-but only when you're both older, of course, of course. Oh!" Pli's eyes seemed to shine and she clasped her hands. "Just the thought of you and my beautiful little girl blossoming into a lovely young women fills me with such happiness!" She sighs and looks out the window at the setting sun, lost in a daydream, and for a moment, despite her ill reception to Pli's continued monologue, Coco wonders if this is all there is for her.

She doesn't like the idea. Not for her, and not for baby Ton.

"I could teach her how to run." Coco says. "I could teach her to climb trees and pick fruit, and build fires. And maybe I could teach her how to fight, too." She adjusts the baby as the little one babbles and squirms playfully in her arms, but her declaration leaves the room silent.

"Whyever would you girls need to fight?" Pli asks in mild alarm.

"You can't teach something you can't even do yourself." Ling says in what he probably believes to be a helpful tone.

"I can learn." Coco snaps bitingly at him with such a snippy vitriol that Ling actually shrinks back and pokes at his food with considerably less gusto than before.

"Nonsense!" Dumple booms. He slaps a hearty hand on his son's back, causing him to comically hit his head on the table. Oblivious to his boy's spiralling eyes, Dumple rolls his shoulders and flexes his enormous arms. "With us men here to protect you, there's no need for that. Besides, a girl can't properly fight, can she? Why, just look at the little one!"

Ton, to her credit, simply stared at her father.

"She'd sooner be eaten than go against any of those beasts in the jungle, even if she were strong as an ox! Not that she could be, mind, but my little girl is going to grow up to be a pretty princess, she is!" Dumple points his chopsticks at Coco, waving them. "As for you, you should definitely take some cooking lessons from Pli, maybe learn to keep house. That grandfather of yours is getting up there in age and it'll be your duty to take care of him!"

He continues to declare similar things, but by then, Coco has stopped listening. While her face outwardly shows no emotion, within her, the blood in her veins pulses with an familiar sort anger she can't comprehend, but welcomes all the same. She lets it wash over her, relishing in the burning in her core, the loud sound of her heartbeat in her ears. Furious defiance makes her insides feel like an exploding star.

She looks down at the baby girl in her arms. Ton looks back, smiling and reaching a pudgy little hand for a strand of Coco's hair, giggling when the springy black curl bounces in response. Ton then yawns, and Coco holds her closer, cradling the baby's head and standing from the dinner table.

"Dear? Where are you going?" Pli asks from her place at the table, finally finding the time to sit and eat dinner.

"I'll put Ton to bed. I think she's tired."

"But you've barely touched your food!"

"I'll finish it later." With that, Coco walks out of the room with the baby, gently cradling her.

"Strange girl, that one." Dumple says as he downs a small jug of water.

"Did you see her eyes?" Pli asks in concern. "She looks so serious for such a young girl."

"Children are mysteries, Pli." Her husband dismisses her. "Stop your worrying. I'm sure whatever it is, she'll sort herself out."

Neither parent notices their own son, who has long since stopped eating and is staring after the direction Coco had left, a pensive expression on his face.

* * *

It's a full moon that night, and it was under its clear white light that Coco finds herself outside doing exercise.

Her arms screech in pain as she tries to push herself up off the ground for the twentieth consecutive time, but she presses on, gritting her teeth and forcing her body to comply. After the twenty first push up, her small, thin arms give way and she drops face first into the grass with a muffled oof!

Sitting up, she wipes the majority of the soil off her face with the back of her sleeve and spits out a few blades of grass. She sat cross legged on the ground, panting to try and catch her breath, wishing she had some water. Coco stares up at the shining moon as she takes the time to let the soft night breeze ruffle her hair and cool her perspiring skin. As she sits, memories come unbidden to the forefront of her mind, playing over and over again like a broken record.

 _"When you find your reason, I promise to teach you. Until then, please...no more fighting."_

 _"There's no need for you to fight."_

 _"Whyever would you need to fight?"_

Coco doesn't know why. All she knows is this emptiness she felt inside, feeling like she had missed something. She feels like a lost opportunity. She feels anger and regret, and a sorrow she can't explain rooted so deep inside that she feels an overwhelming need to break free of it.

She knows Gohan and Pli are concerned, and she certainly hadn't missed the countless looks of bewilderment from others. She knows she's different. She's not like the other kids.

Did she really even need to fight? The very thought of giving up what she wanted because of what others told her stirs a nasty feeling in her gut that feels too familiar for her liking. It twists her face into a disgusted grimace.

The moon above illuminated everything so brightly Coco felt like its light could uncover her every secret, and for a moment, she felt calm. But then...

 _"A girl can't fight properly, can she?"_

 _"Just go and do whatever it is little girls do. It's no fun picking on weaklings."_

Coco closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then throws herself on her back, pushing up her knees and putting her hands behind her head. With a grunt, she pulls her torso up as close to her knees as possible, and ignores the subsequent burning in her abdomen after picking up speed.

 _I already know my reason, Grandpa._

With each sit up, she catches a glimpse of the moon again, only for the sight to become the darkness of the forest trees when she goes back down again.

 _I'll fight because I **want** to. _

Coco sees the moon again, and again, it disappears.

 _I'll fight because I **know** I **can.**_

She picks up her pace, desperately trying to make as little noise as possible, trying to ignore the pain. She grits her teeth and presses on.

 _No one can tell me who I am._

 _No one can tell me what I should be._

 _I'll become strong. I want to **be strong.**_

 _I'll **make** myself strong. All by myself._

Coco idly wonders if it's the sweat or the tears in her eyes, but all the same, the moon blurs and glows even brighter.

* * *

Each day, after Ling finishes his chores, he goes to train with the other kids, his group of friends. They've all grown up together, had known each other since they were babies. It's a true companionship, Ling thinks. Even if he doesn't know just about everything about them, and he doesn't see them all the time and they're not always allowed to go on hiking trips with him, Ling is certain that to have true companions to stand by him is a man's blessing.

Even if he was older than most of them.

But then, something changed. That little girl. The one that came with that old man Gohan who lived the farthest away from the field.

She's two years younger than him, but she acts like she's older. And even then, she was nothing like the adults or the two teenagers that live in the community. She's different; looks different, talks different, acts different! What kind of girl wants to fight? What kind of girl doesn't giggle or even _smile?_ (The old man Gohan insisted that she did, but Ling had never seen it, and would bet he never would.)

In the following week of Gohan's absence, Ling notices the sudden change; both in his daily routine and his nightly one, specifically starting with the second day of Coco's stay with his family.

Before, after his chores, he and his friends train. Though they're lucky to be well out of the way of dinosaur and monster territory, their village is plagued from time to time by cougars and wolves; mangy, starving animals always after their livestock. It's up to their fathers to take up arms against them, and when Ling and his companions grew up, the task of protecting the village would fall to them. It is in this knowledge that Ling takes great pride in, knowing that one day, he would be responsible for protecting his home. When he closes his eyes and dreams, Ling is a valiant warrior, dutifully protecting his domain.

Before, the little girl had come out of nowhere, demanding to play with them. Play! As if it were some kind of game. He's come to expect it after the next three times, that little girl challenging him every day. He doesn't understand why she does, but Ling simply can't allow her to interfere with his training, so each day, he makes quick work of her.

Then, Gohan leaves, and suddenly she's at his house. He takes the opportunity to secretly study her closely, as any warrior should. She likes his baby sister, and gets along well with his mother, so Ling figures that all she really needed were other girls to be with. It seems to help; she smiles (actually _smiles_ ) when she's with them, and is very diligent in helping his mother with all her household chores. It's good, Ling thinks at first. Now she'll be what a girl should be.

Then, she continued to say things that didn't make sense. Girls climbing trees? Girls building fires? Ling could assume she didn't mean the kind started in the stove. He tried to explain, but they way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him…

Ling could only just muster up enough honor to himself to admit that the fiery look in her eyes scared him, but also awed him.

Now, she still comes every day, at the same time, when he and his friends are training. That first day after that night, instead of challenging him directly, she walks up straight to him, pushing past all of his friends (rather rude, for a girl) despite their protests and jeers. They quiet down and speak in hushed whispers about this little girl squares up and stares right at him, the strongest of them all, the oldest, the smartest, a boy taller than her by a whole head!

Despite the difference in height, Ling feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his shaved head, unnerved by the intensity of her stare. She was looking too closely at him, too boldly, for a girl.

But she doesn't say anything. Not a word.

Ling frowns. "Well? What do you want now?"

"If I fought you, right here, right now, who would win?"

The jeers come from all around them, "Of course it would be Ling!", "Yeah, he's the strongest!" , "What kind of question is that?!", "Tell her, Ling!"

Ling frowns a little more, and looks down at her, and remembers that even though she wasn't in the right here, she is still smaller than him, and he lived with her now. His mother doesn't know about all the times they fought, and the idea of hitting her and making his mother upset doesn't sit right with him. He doesn't want his baby sister to learn this bad habit from her. So, he decides he would protect Coco too and, for once, let her down easy.

"You can't win." Ling said gently. "You're too small, and not strong enough. You live in my house now, so that means I have to protect you, and I can't do that if I'm hurting you. So, I won't fight you anymore. Go home."

At this, her eyes flash at him like they did that night at dinner, and Ling feels tense. Everyone is quiet, waiting with bated breath for her reaction.

No one expects her to smile.

It isn't a happy smile. It feels sharp like a sword. Her eyes burn, and her fists clench in obvious displeasure. Ling expects her to throw a punch anyway, so he prepares himself to block a blow, but again, she throws him for a loop!

"Thanks for telling me." And with that, she walks off, her head held high.

The jaws of everyone there have hit the ground, but none as extremely as Ling's.

She thanked him? _Thanked him?!_

"...Maybe she...understands now?" says one of his friends uncertainly.

Ling has the foreboding feeling that this isn't the case. Not at all.

This happens every day for a week. She walks up, straight to him, and asks if she could beat him. He tells her no. She leaves.

Then her Grandfather returns and suddenly she's gone.

Ling isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed.

* * *

"Pack?" Coco asks in bewilderment. "But you only just got back, Grandpa. Are we leaving? Do you not like the village anymore?"

"No, Coco." Grandpa chuckles. He's just come back, and not an hour after a happy reunion, he's told her to pack her things. "There's someone who wants to meet you."

"The same person you went to visit?"

"Clever girl, how did you guess?"

"I dunno, it made sense. But Grandpa, can I say goodbye to Pli and Ton first?"

"Well, let's see...if you can rush down there and make it back before sunset, then yes. We'll just have to leave tomorrow. But pack what you'd like to take with you first; we'll be gone for a long while, at least a month."

A new place! A whole month! For a moment, her excitement bubbled over and the prospect of adventure brought a gleeful smile to her face.

"I'll run as fast as I can!" With that, Coco sprinted out the door of their hut, down the beaten path toward the fields.

* * *

Gohan pulled back the curtain on his window and watched his granddaughter run like the wind, noticeably faster than before, back when she had spied on him practicing his kata in the forest. Within seconds, she was gone.

He pondered. "Perhaps Master Roshi was right."

 **A/N: ...**

 **This took a lot longer than it should have. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy!**

 **Reviews and comments are always welcome, and much appreciated. Feel free to ask any questions if you have them!**

 **And if you like it enough to follow and favorite, that's quite the bonus! ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

The city isn't exactly what Coco is expecting.

She expects high rise towers, bustling roads full of smoggy, beeping cars and overcrowded streets full of people. There _are_ cars, and plenty of high rise towers...yet most of the cars zip around high in the air while the few on the ground have no wheels, and the buildings are all bizarrely shaped like cylinders and spheres, with some structures that are even cone-like. With so much going on above her, she loses her head in the clouds and almost had an accident with a foul-mouthed teen on a hovering scooter, though Grandpa pulls her out of the way.

"You've got to be much more careful here, dear," she vaguely hears through her dizziness as Grandpa steadies her. "Anything can happen in the blink of an eye." He dusts her off, she grips his hand and they continue on their way across the street, neither of them noticing the obscenities that yet another driver hurled at them as they amble across.

They've come here by boat, a day-long trip for the beginning of their month-long respite from the countryside, and Coco finds herself enjoying the sights of unfamiliar territory. The water sparkles so beautifully, and Coco still swears that she'd seen a sea monster beneath the waves.

"I'm telling you, Grandpa!" she keeps insisting. "It was big and blue, and had fins and it looked right at us! Didn't you see? It was almost like a dinosaur with fins!"

"I'm sure it was magnificent." Gohan chuckles.

"I haven't got much with me," says Grandpa as he pulls out a wallet and hands Coco a few bills. "But it would be a waste for us to take a trip to the city and not get a souvenir, I think. How about it, dear?"

She shakes her head. "I don't mind if we don't get anything, Grandpa," Coco insists. "I like travelling."

Grandpa smiles and closes Coco's hand over the money. "It's not like we need the zeni for much at home. Come now, take it and let's go get you something nice."

In the end, Coco decides on a cheongsam from a lone street vendor on the very corner of the clothes district; a simple, quaint little thing with a deep yellow body and orange-red embroidery, with seven little buttons on the collar, each of them exquisitely detailed with a different number of miniscule stars. They purchased it from a little old woman who never once moved from her chair (or at all, really), and when they made to leave her arm suddenly shot out to grip woodenly at Coco's sleeve.

"That's a blessed dress," the old woman rasped. "I made it the very same day I witnessed a miracle. You'll have good fortune come your way when you wear that, I'm sure. I'm glad I found someone who fits it well. Good fortune to you, child."

"Thank you," Coco stammers, uncharacteristically nervous. Gohan smiles and bows at the old woman, and she hurriedly does the same.

"Let's be off then." Grandpa says, and not five minutes later they find themselves on a rather crowded train. Coco tightly grips onto Gohan's sleeve as they're rather violently pushed in by trainworkers.

It's loud. It's crowded. It's slightly smelly.

Coco's nose scrunches up. "I don't think I like the city."

Grandpa grimaces in agreement. "Neither do I, dear."

"Grandpa, who are we visiting?"

"A very, very old friend."

A crowded train ride later Coco is miffed to find herself on yet another boat, but this one leads to a little village far across the coast. From there, they take yet another boat, and Coco keeps occupied by admiring the sparkling blue waves, keeping her eyes peeled for more sea monsters. After nearly two hours of sailing, they finally reach their destination: A lonely, tiny island in the middle of the ocean with swaying palm trees and a single, pink painted home sitting cosy atop it. Coco reads the bright red letters emblazoned on the front wall.

"Kame House?"

Grandpa looks down at her in mild surprise. "You can read?"

She's confused. "Can't you, grandpa?"

"I never needed to, and thus never made to learn, not in all my life. I suppose it's a shame, really, but it's fortunate that you can, my girl." He pays the sailor and they step onto the sand.

It's quiet save for the sound of the ocean lapping at their feet. The sea spray fills her lungs and Coco can see why someone would want to live so far away from the city, if they could live in a miniature paradise like this. She takes a deep breath. A little crab scuttles around her feet, and she watches in fascination. It looks up and waves to her with a claw as big as its head. She waves back and smiles when it cheerfully blows bubbles at her.

"Now then," Gohan says seriously, and Coco, who can't bear to tear her attention from the little crab, picks it up in her palms to pay attention to her grandfather. "We are here to see a man named Master Roshi, and it's imperative that you show him the utmost respect, child. Do you understand?"

"Yes Grandpa."

"Good girl." He calls out to someone lounging on a chair under a palm tree, "Excuse me!" Coco's eyes bug out of her head when she spots the crocodile wearing a polo shirt and sunglasses glancing back at them over his tanning mirror. "Would you please let Master Roshi know that we're here to see him?"

"Yeah, sure." The crocodile. The crocodile just _spoke!_ Actually spoke human words! She can't help it. She has to say something.

"Grandpa!" She tugs on his shoulder excitedly. "He talked! He's wearing people clothes!"

"Really, haven't you ever seen a talking croc before, kid?" The reptile grumbles as he shuffles over to the house. Gohan looks sternly down at her, and she can't help but shrink back.

"Mind your manners, please."

"Sorry, Grandpa…"

They wait for a short time with nothing but the sound of the ocean breeze and waves behind them, and then someone shuffles out of the house.

Coco studies him. It's a man, hunched over and even older than her Grandpa, with an enormous purple turtle shell on his back and a head so bald it shone in the sunlight. His mustache and beard is the only hair on his face, long and bushy like a mountain caterpillar. He's dressed for the island, wearing giant sunglasses, an ugly island shirt and shorts a little too short for her liking.

He looks absolutely ridiculous. Coco doesn't know what to think.

"Master Roshi." Coco's eyes bug out of her head when she witnesses Gohan bow lower than she'd ever seen. She looks between the two, wondering about their connection.

"Ah, Gohan!" says the old man. "It's been too long, my friend."

"It's been about a week, Master, though I still consider it an honor."

"You live alone for as long as I have, and time becomes a blur. But still as polite as ever, I see. I suppose it's just as well, seeing as I've got 300 years on you, m'boy!" Coco grimaced a little at his missing teeth when the old man laughed out loud, banging his stick on the sand. She grips Grandpa's hand a little tighter and moves a little closer.

"Indeed, Master." Gohan chuckles. Coco's grip makes him take notice of her, and he presents her to Master Roshi, hands on her shoulders. "I've brought another visitor with me, as promised."

Coco stares into the glare of Master Roshi's sunglasses. "So then, this is her."

"Yes, Master. This is my darling granddaughter. Coco dear, say hello to Master Roshi."

Coco clasps her hands before her and bows respectfully. "It's very nice to meet you, Master Roshi sir," she says, extra politely.

"Good manners. That's good, very good." The old man strokes his beard in contemplation, his face expressionless, his eyes hidden behind the large sunglasses.

There's a long pause where nobody says anything, and Coco straightens awkwardly.

The old man suddenly turns away. "Well then, let's get inside. This old body ain't what it used to be, you know. Too much sunshine and I'll end up getting liver spots!"

"Yes, of course. Shall I put on some tea?"

"Ginseng'll be fine; I've got some left in the pantry."

Coco sticks close to her grandfather and follows them into the house, warily eyeing the sunbathing croc.

The visit continues. Coco learns that Master Roshi is the man who taught her Grandfather Martial Arts. She stays quiet and speaks only when spoken to, playing with the little crab from the beach. It jovially walks over her wiggling fingers like a jungle gym, and blows bubbles in her face from time to time. She sips her tea and stays straight, keeping herself as well behaved as possible.

"Your little friend there must be restless." says Master Roshi suddenly. Coco startles and looks at him. "And I'm pretty sure you're bored. Why don't you go outside to play? The tide is low, you should be fine."

Coco looks at Grandpa.

He nods, smiling. "Go on, dear. It's not every day you'll see a beach as beautiful as this. Leave us old men to catch up."

Coco acquiesces, but makes sure not leave without giving Gohan and hug around his middle. She ambles out of the door a little more enthusiastically then she'd care to admit.

For a moment, the two elders say nothing. The Turtle Hermit strokes his beard in contemplation. "She seems strong enough." he says thoughtfully. "Very mindful, quite stable. Why don't you want to train her?"

Gohan sighs and puts his cup down, the china clinking on the saucer. "It's true indeed. But she has a temper; always picking fights with the boys in the village, always running around with the wolves. She's mindful alright, a bit too much. Headstrong indeed, she wouldn't have the patience, I believe. No, it's best she grows out of the desire. Perhaps if I take her to another village, one with more little girls her age-"

Master Roshi taps his cane lightly on the kitchen floor. "You're a better man than this. Stop making excuses, and face your truth. You don't want to train her at all."

At this, Gohan balks. "Certainly not, Master! I made her a promise!"

Master Roshi grunts. "Seems you just don't want to teach her, not only because she's a little girl, but because she's _your_ little girl."

"I-"

"Isn't it so? You're blinded by your love for her. You don't want to see her hurt herself, so you put off what could very well be beneficial for her."

"That's...I don't…"

"You're a very loving man, Gohan." Master Roshi stood, arms folded behind his back, and faces the window. Gohan follows his field of vision.

He watches Coco run about in the sand, splashing in the waves, smiling wide and laughing joyfully. She wears a crab on her head like a tiara seashells on her neck like jewels, chasing the crocodile man from earlier as he lazily swims away.

Fondness warms his heart, and uncertainty rattles his nerves. "She's my little girl."

"Love is a wonderful thing, Gohan, but we must always remain vigilant so as not to let it blind us to the real world. That little girl will grow up into a young lady, and that young lady will most certainly have suitors. She has a life ahead. Would you deny her the tools to defend herself from all that would stand in her way?"

Gohan contemplated this, but for now, he resigned himself to watching his little granddaughter smile and laugh, sealing the memory into his mind.

For a while, Coco feels like a real kid.

She shyly apologizes to the crocodile, who simply grunted and shooed her off, adamant on warming up and turning two shades of green darker. The crab jovially lead her around the beach, and they soon make games of collecting the perfect seashells, tossing the little crustacean into the ocean and guessing where he'd pop up.

They build sandcastles and she waves sticks like swords, and bravely ventures to the crocodile, playfully demanding a ride from her noble steed. Much to her surprise and delight, he shrugs and changes into swim trunks, allowing her to ride on his back. Gingerly she steps into the water, and they go, adventuring in a world of her own making, and for a time, she forgets all the things that ever made her upset.

Afternoon soon turns to evening, and soon Coco finds herself on a beach chair by Codi the Croc, lounging spread-eagled under the setting sun. She can barely keep her eyes open when she feels someone (Grandpa?) gently carrying her away. A moment later, just before she falls asleep in soft, cool sheets, she hears voices:

"...outside...see what you've…"

"Of...kept up with my...will not disappoint…"

She falls asleep.

Outside, under the light of the moon and the stars, two Masters drop into a battle stance, preparing to clash.

**********************  
A little something to get the flow going again. Comments are welcome, tell me what you think!  
I promise it won't be another year


	5. Chapter 5

She dreams again.

 _Everything is colorful, too colorful, and for a moment she's overwhelmed by the glaring presence of bold, bright ORANGE._

 _Master Roshi is with two little shadows, running, running, never stopping, all of them wearing turtle shells. They morph together and become a large turtle._

 _"Please," he implores, "Will you help me get back to the ocean?"_

 _The sound of a motor car, a flash of bright blue, and the screeching roar of a hungry pterodactyl over a scream and the very earth begins to shudder, lightning shatters the sky, and an overwhelming presence begins to crush her with its weight, heavier, heavier, she can't BREATHE-_

Coco's eyes snap open and she sits up in bed. The crab falls out of her hair and fidgets indignantly. She blearily looks down at him as he clacks his pincers in annoyance.

"Sorry." she whispers. She picks him up and situates him in a comfortable position on her pillow, and takes the time to look at her surroundings. It's dark, and rather than the nighttime sounds of crickets and wolf howls in the jungle, there's the simple swish of the ocean on the beach.

 _"Hyah!"_

Coco startles, and after a second she scrambles out of the sheets (still in her day clothes) and rushes to the window. She lets out a little gasp. She can't help it, what she sees makes her heart race.

The only way she knows there is a fight is the shifting and blowing of the sands beneath their feet. Grandpa Gohan and Master Roshi suddenly appear, exchanging blows; a punch to the face blocked by a wooden cane, a snakelike movement down low to the ground in an attempt to trip up the opponent with a foot, avoided by a hop in the air.

Grandpa Gohan fights with a razor sharp spirit she's never seen. He strikes go exactly where he wants them to with mind-blowing accuracy. He never tripped, and he never stopped, and never got tired. He looked as calm as ever, but his eyes were bright, alert. He jumps back with impressive speed, and Master Roshi's cane attack only hits air, but when she sees Grandpa bent down on one knee for a moment, a few feet away and holding his chest, she knows the blow has landed. And yet, he gets up, and in the blink of an eye he's in close range to Master Roshi again, and Coco's blood roars in her ears when he begins a breakneck barrage of punches toward the other elder.

Grandpa moves like a fighter, but Coco now knows why Master Roshi has his title; with every strike, he moves with utter ease. The fight is like a stroll in the park for him. For every blow that Grandpa lands, his cane is there to block. His body doesn't move drastically, but he simply shuffles left and right, never missing a beat, never getting hit. When Grandpa manages to kick his cane away, Coco covers her mouth to hold back her cheer.

She _has_ to get a closer look.

Silently, she creeps out of the room and gingerly walks down the stairs, quiet as a mouse. Instead of going out the front door, she sneaks out the back to the opposite side of the little island. Outside, the sounds of blow after blow are louder, but she knows that if she's seen, they'll stop and send her to bed. Shaking sand out of her toes with every step, she moves along the pink walls of the house and peeks around for a place to hide behind. After inspection, she frowns.

The boulders are sparse and too small. The palm trees are too thin. And she's not in the mood to get wet, much less let the tide (stronger now) carry her off into the sea, just to hide in the water. Coco huffs.

 _This whole place is flat! If I'm not behind the house, they'll see me for sure!_

She contemplates going back inside and watching from the window, but another shout from the other side excites her again, and she knows there isn't any way she can let herself miss the rest of the battle. A night breeze blows, and after breathing in the sea air she looks to where the palm trees sway gently, their leaves rustling. One in particular is curved right on top of Kame House.

Coco grins.

Coco grimaces.

Climbing the palm tree is proving more difficult than she'd thought. The trunk is too smooth and she's fallen on her butt one too many times for her patience to last.

 _I'm missing the fight!_

She shakes the sand out of her toes and braces herself against the tree trunk. One more time, she thought, just one more time.

Her fingers and palms hurt, scraped and scratched up by the rugged bark of the trunk. The soles of her feet burn and she slowly inches forward, up, up, and up more still. Her muscles scream with the strain, but she's getting better at ignoring it, all her focus on making it to the scarlet roof of Kame House.

So incredibly focused is she that she doesn't hear someone shuffle across the sand below her.

"What are you doing?"

Coco shrieks and flails in midair before falling the ten feet she had climbed, headfirst into the sand.

 _"MMMpphhgh!"_ Her head and shoulder are stuck, and that's just great, how embarrassing, what a mess, and now her butt's wiggling all crazy in the air, she must look so stupid right now!

"Upsy-daisy!" With a tug at the hem of her shirt she pops out of the ground and immediately shakes the sand out of her hair and rubs at her eyes. Once her vision clears she glares as hard as she can at the person who ruined her plan, aiming to give them a piece of her mind.

It's a turtle. A giant turtle is staring back at her.

…

"Are you alright?" asks the turtle.

Coco opens her mouth to reply. Sand falls out.

The turtle cocks his head at her.

Blushing darkly, Coco grimaces and spits out the last of the sand. "I was fine until you messed me up." She grumbled.

The reptile blinked slowly."Why were you climbing the tree? It's dangerous for a child your size, you know."

"My Grandpa is fighting Master Roshi, and I wanted to see."

"Then you could have gone to the front to watch."

"No, they'd see me."

"So?"

 _"So,_ I'm supposed to be in bed. I can't let them see or I'd be in trouble!"

"Couldn't you have just looked from one of the windows from the house?"

Coco sighed in exasperation. "No, I wouldn't get a good look through the glass. They were moving too fast."

"Then why didn't you open the window?"

Coco smacked her forehead.

The turtle blinked again. "Anyway, there's nothing to watch out there, and it's dawn. Maybe you were dreaming this whole time."

The talking turtle might have swayed her had she not met Codi the Crocodile, but the burning pain in her muscles isn't so convincing.

But the turtle's right; the sun's light has started to peak over the horizon and turn it pink and orange, and the sounds of battle out front have gone still, and Coco's irritation turns to dread.

"I have to get back!"

"Well, you came out the back door. Guess you'll have to sneak in that way," The turtle nodded sagely. He shuffled around her and crawled toward the front yard. "I'll help and distract them if they're still out there. You go on."

"Really? Thank you!" Coco breathed. She watched him gratefully shuffle away a few feet, slowly but surely making his way.

And another foot.

And another.

...and one more.

"I'm nearly there," The turtle pants as he reaches the side of the house. "I wonder what Master Roshi will have to say about me coming back after so long. I'm sure he'll find it strange when he hears there's a kid in his backyard…"

Coco stares. "I'm still here."

The reptile stiffens and his head swivels to peer at her, annoyed. "I'll have you know I'm very fast for my species. Land isn't the same as the ocean, you know."

Coco doesn't say anything.

"Kids these days," muttered the turtle. "Go inside already, I'll keep my promise."

Somehow, even as the front door opens and the two men walk in, she manages to sneak back into the house, up the stairs and into bed before getting caught. Soon after, Grandpa comes in to take her down for breakfast.

Later that morning, Coco stands on the turtle's back to reach the table and serve the two elders their morning tea. It's black, and Coco frowns when Master Roshi coughs a little at its strength. Grandpa Gohan has long since gotten used to it, and she beams with pride as he sips away and pats her on the head for a job well done. But she doesn't want to stop there.

"My my, so you can cook, can you?" The Turtle Hermit chortles when Coco brazenly asks if he has the ingredients for pancakes.

She puffs up just a little. "I help make breakfast every morning."

"There's milk and eggs in the fridge. Flour and sugar in the pantry."

"And cinnamon?" she insists.

"That too. Go wild and don't make a mess of my kitchen, y'hear?"

It takes some time to gather everything (the cupboards a little too high) but soon she's mixing everything in a bowl and relishing the chance to use a real stove instead of the fire pits back home. Turtle and Crabby were of as much help as they could be, handing her items as she requested them and, somehow in defiance of nature, setting the table.

She presents a platter stacked high with pancakes and drizzled with the store bought syrup she found in the fridge, a pitcher of orange juice and a bowl of fresh fruit cut up into pieces.

Coco, in an oversized apron and face smudged with flour, gave her sunniest smile. "A meal fit for two masters!"

Grandpa looked as proud as she had expected. Master Roshi stroked his beard and gave them a whiff.

"Well, I'm not one to eat this much sugar in one meal," he said contemplatively. "But as for your hard work, I must say, I'm impressed. It would be the height of folly to refuse such a service indeed." He was in the chair and tucking a napkin in his shirt before Coco could blink. "Well then, let's all eat."

"Yes, do wash up dear. We'll wait for you." Grandpa smiled and poked her nose. "Don't forget here!"

She giggled despite herself, warmth bubbling inside her. "Okay Grandpa."

As she runs up the stairs, she files the victory in the back of her mind.

If Master Roshi was to train her, she'd have to play her cards right and make him want to. And the first step, she notes as she lathers her hands, is through endearing herself.

Step one of Pli's Perfect Plan to Manipulate Males: feed the men and make them happy.

After an uneventful day of watching TV and strolling around the beach, Coco is put to bed and the two elders go outside to spar once more. And again, Coco sneaks out to watch, but this time she has a plan.

"It didn't work the first time, it's not gonna work now." Turtle cautioned. Coco hushes him and starts the climb.

Instead of simply wrapping her entire body around the trunk of the tree and pulling using her arms, she tries pushing with her legs.

A genius plan. She'd show them how much a six year old could do.

Within minutes, she falls again. And again. And _again_. Her arms and legs start to screech and she's breathing hard and uncomfortably hot and sweaty, but tonight she manages to climb just a little farther after every try.

Unbeknownst to her, this doesn't go unnoticed by either Gohan or Master Roshi, both of whom have long since stopped fighting and are calmly sipping tea on the porch. The small TV set Master Roshi owns is hooked to an extension cord in the kitchen and placed nearby, loudly playing the sounds of an old martial arts movie.

"I mean really," Master Roshi snipes. "Thousands of years of tradition and teachings, and this is the mainstream takeaway? What utter garbage. His form is all wrong, look Gohan, do you see?" Master Roshi guffaws in and slaps his knee, turning to his companion for a reply, but the other man is sitting still with a contemplative look in his eye, his steaming tea having long since turned cold. Master Roshi sighs and expands his peripheral sense, and just as expected he hears the sound of someone falling into the sand, groaning in the distance.

"Perhaps I should check on her progress-"

"No." Master Roshi firmly denies. "And sit yourself down. If the child wants to learn, you can't very well stop her. If this is her decision then she must have the strength _and_ the will to see it through. A cause with no intention is worthless."

Gohan nonetheless looks troubled, so Master Roshi takes pity on his old student and softens his tone. "I can't know for sure what it's like to have a child of your own, but I had you boys to look after. You and Ox, my students. We are both here, and no unnecessary harm will come to her. She has our supervision, Gohan."

"Yes, Master."

"Take pride!" Gohan started out of his stupor at the feeling of his master's hand against his knee, patting reassuringly. "You've found one with some real spunk!" Their attention turns back toward the television, where a skinny young man takes the time to yell at his instructor for making him do chores, screaming angry expletives. Master Roshi frowns. "Like that guy, but cuter and less annoying."

"Indeed." Gohan purses his lips in distaste.

They hear Coco shriek and fall into the sand again with a loud _thump!_

Master Roshi slurps up the last of his tea and Gohan immediately fills his cup.

It takes five nights before Coco finally makes a breakthrough.

During that time, she'd established a routine during their visit to Master Roshi's, not unlike the routine at home in the mountains. Every morning, she wakes up early to help Grandpa make breakfast. She enlists Turtle's help in her chores, (she'd do it herself he was so slow, but his enthusiasm in cheering her on at night and willingness to help meant she can't bear to turn him away). Then, she spends the rest of the day either running around on the beach, or staying close to Gohan while the two elders converse. Sometimes she watches TV, and other times she sits on one of Master Roshi's squashy armchairs, flipping through books.

Reading English comes naturally to her, and though Master Roshi hasn't many real books (only magazines that Grandpa very quickly snatches from her hands), she manages to find one and spends time reading aloud about pirates to Turtle and Crabby. Characters, on the other hand, are complete gibberish, but she'd rather sit and pretend to read rather than admit she couldn't, at least to Master Roshi. She figures she'll learn at some point.

At night, she develops more scrapes and bruises than fighting with Ling and the village boys has ever made. The pain becomes almost familiar, motivation for her to keep going. It's long since stopped being about witnessing Gohan's fighting style against a real Master and become a challenge for her. One she couldn't rest from until she had gotten it.

Turtle is both her biggest cheerleader and critic. He's always got suggestions, helpful and not, and always covers for her by the time dawn breaks. She's dead to the world for an extra hour or two, and on one day in particular, she doesn't wake up until the evening, her body sore all over, aching. She's happy they all decide to stay in and watch a movie that night, and she rests on the floor by Grandpa's legs, leaning against Turtle with Crabby snoozing on her head.

On the fifth night, something is different.

As she climbs, the pain is not as painful.

She doesn't get tired.

And below, as Crabby waves his claws and blows bubbles excitedly, and Turtle looks up in growing anticipation, Coco looks down and instead of feeling scared at how high she is, she feels like she's rising above more than just the sandy beach below.

She pulls with her arms and pushes with her legs, and she keeps going, higher, higher!

She slips, but she quickly tightens her grip and braces herself, gritting her teeth at the burning sensation in her palms, but she keeps going.

And then her hand touches a flat wooden surface. It's such a shock that she loses her balance and slips. Turtle cries out down below, but Coco manages to scrabble up onto the roof pushing her feet off the heavy fronds of the palm, and for a moment, she's stunned. She taps her foot around, just to get her bearings on the flat surface. This turns out to be a mistake, as she begins sliding down the slope of the roof, but she holds onto a protruding window.

 _Is that my room?_

It was. Very carefully, she inches over and hangs her head over peers inside, confirming her suspicions. The sounds of hand to hand combat recapture her attention, and anticipation makes her vibrate with excitement.

 _Finally!_

Slowly, gingerly, she inches toward the front yard, and once she gets close enough, she peers over the other side.

"Well, well! Finally did it, did you?"

Coco stares, her mouth open.

Master Roshi raised a glass of his drink up, smiling wide while the TV blared. But Coco can't even begin to indulge her incredulity when she sets her sights on Grandpa, who's quietly standing on the beach, staring at her with an unreadable face.

"...I'm grounded, aren't I?"

"As soon as you can find a way down."

She looks at the height of the drop and quietly says a bad word.

 **Well, there's chapter 5!**

 **As always, comments and concrit are appreciated. Times are hectic, but I'm trying to be more active with this. It's one of my favorites, and I want to keep the will to see it through. If you've stuck with me this long, you have my utmost gratitude.**

 **More coming your way!**


	6. Chapter 6

She earns a twisted ankle and a sprained wrist for her trouble.

On top of that, she's grounded for the rest of their visit for consistently getting out of bed. Grandpa gives her a lecture about the importance of sleep and caution to one's own health, and makes no mistake in letting her know that in dishonoring him in his Master's house by going against his wishes, her punishment will be decided by their host.

It doesn't make too much sense, but Coco is willing to do anything to make her Grandpa happy with her again.

As it turns out, Master Roshi doesn't seem to mind that she was climbing all over his property. Nonetheless, he waits the week out to allow her to heal before he assigns her chores around the house. Everything is done by hand: waxing the floors, washing the dishes, sweeping, dusting, all manner of chores. Everything has to be done just-so, and even when she falters to cradle her still-healing wrist and ankle for a moment, Master Roshi doesn't let up.

"Your motions are wrong. Correct them. Like this!"

"You call that sweeping? Turtle does a better job dragging his flippers on the floor!"

"On, then off!"

"More of that tea, please! Didn't know it could taste good this strong…"

None of it gets Coco down. She works to perfect each and every chore as best as she can, no matter what the increasingly kooky old man says.

Her favorite chore is rug cleaning. They step out onto the sunny beach early in the morning. Master Roshi gives her a wooden tool as long as his arm and points to a hanging rug on a clothesline.

"Hit it."

"What?"

"This is how we get the dust and dirt out of our carpets. Hit it as hard as you can, using the wide end of the beater."

She smacks the rug. A puff of dust colors the air around them and she coughs a little. Her wrist aches.

"Again, harder."

She does with a strong _whack!_

"Harder! With feeling! Are you gonna let that dust keep that rug dirty? Put some back into it!"

 _WHACK!_

"HAH!"

"Again!"

She hits the rug as hard as she can, over and over and over, and a dust cloud begins to form and her cheeks are comically blown up as she holds her breath to keep from coughing. Master Roshi strokes his beard for a long while before he finally tells her to stop.

She collapses on the sand on her back, spread eagled, gulping in breaths of clean air.

Sweet, sweet air.

"Hmm," Master Roshi strokes his beard. "Not bad. Now let's move on to the rest of them."

What.

She lifts her head and her eyes bulge in shock when she notices at least ten more more room-sized rugs on more clotheslines. Master Roshi strolls leisurely towards the next. She shrieks and shoots up to her feet, pointing incredulously.

"WHY DO YOU HAVE SO MANY?"

"You don't know my life. Perhaps I'm a rug enthusiast."

"YOU ARE _NOT!"_

It was the same. Day in, day out, chore after chore after chore. Gohan sits quietly on the sidelines and watches, saying nothing, but Coco understands; this must be some sort of karma for how she treated him before he left. She dishonored him and had to earn it back.

What had meant to be the final two weeks of their visit becomes nearly two months of constant work around the island, with the chores getting harder and more elaborate. But armed with her bucket, cloth, scarf over her mouth and bandana over her hair, she throws herself into the familiar motions.

She washes windows, practically drowning in soapy water.

She vacuums the front porch while serving the elders lemonade.

Dusts the windowpanes and rearranges the cabinets ten times over, and makes the kitchen sparkle.

She runs endlessly back and forth over the wooden floors (bereft of rugs, she scathingly notices) polishing them until Master Roshi could see his reflection.

On one occasion, Roshi has her spend an entire day moving his couch. When she drags her feet into living room

"I want it moved over there," He points to a space on the far side, where there is an empty wall. "It's under the window right now and it makes the back of my neck burn when I sit to watch the tube. Try not to make any scuff marks on the floor."

Coco spends some time surveying the area before bracing herself against the arm of the seat and pushing. Unsurprisingly, the furniture doesn't budge. She turns and pushes with her back, bearing her weight on her legs. The muscles in her thighs cry in protest but she grits her teeth and keeps pushing.

The wooden floor is smooth, and that helps the sofa slide along, however slowly. Then out of nowhere, the sofa gets heavier. Puzzled, she peers around the back of the chair. A vein bulges in her temple.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" says Master Roshi, casually puffing on his pipe.

"You're sitting on the couch." Coco's voice, dripping with venom, is muffled by the scarf she's glad is still around her mouth. "Aren't you too old to be smoking, Master Roshi?"

"Aren't you too young to be full of sass? Get to it, girl! Unless," and his next words make Coco want to kill.

"You're not strong enough to move me."

Her feet stomp against the hardwood floor and she lets out a shrill roar, and pushes with all her might.

"That's right! Push! Push like your life depends on it!"

"I'M PUSHING, DAMMIT!"

"Methinks that's another day added to your grounding sentence for that language, young lady." Master Roshi sounds entirely too smug as he blows a puff of smoke.

"ARRRRGH!"

The pain is ridiculous. It feels like her muscles are snapping, and her bones are rattling in her limbs. She pushes for hours, shrieking incoherently at the Master's flippant comments as she moves the immovable with everything she's got.

But she doesn't give up. She'll do this for her Grandfather. She won't let some weird, smoking, caterpillar-faced old man tell her what she could and couldn't do.

The sun outside is setting on the horizon in beautiful blends of pink and orange when she finally moves the couch to its destination, passenger and all. Almost eagerly, she pushes it against the wall and slumps to the floor, practically boneless.

"Hmm. Not bad. Scuff marks are there, but it's nothing a little varnish can't handle. I'll call the carpenters for next week." Coco doesn't even look up, because her body is burning and this floor is so cool and smooth and comfortable and she should probably breathe some more- "Now let's see about moving that television a little to the right."

Immediately, she knows she can't take any more. She stays silent.

"What?" says Master Roshi, leaning back in his seat. "Are you done? Can't take any more? Are you saying you've moved this entire couch all by yourself but you can't slide a little old glass box across the floor two feet?"

Coco's hands are shaking, her entire body trembling, she's never felt quite this weak.

It hurt. Everything hurt. It hurt so bad she thought she might cry.

But slowly, painfully slowly, she stood up, and looked Master Roshi dead in the eye. He stared back, eye unseen through his sunglasses puffing away at his pipe.

Without a word, she shuffles to the TV, and braces her hands against the support table.

"Stop." The suddenly too-close smell of tobacco smoke makes her nose wrinkle involuntarily in displeasure, and a pair of wrinkled hands grasp her shoulders and gently move her away from the television. Coco looks up into Master Roshi's sunglasses as he folds his hands behind her back, and for once, he looks much taller and older than usual.

"You've done enough for today."

Coco shakes her head. "I can do it. I have to do it."

Lightly, Master Roshi bops her on the head with his cane. "Stubborn girl. The answer is no."

"I'm not weak!" Coco can't even move her arms high enough to bat it away. "I can!"

"Listen to me. The only way to surpass your limits is to know them first. Humanity is blessed with the gift of knowledge, and those without knowledge will never surpass their limits. Do you understand?" He pokes her arm, she winces. "Pain is another gift. Pain is the warning to tell you when you have reached your limit. Remember this pain. Remember it well. And give your body time to recover, because if you attempt to go beyond your limits without rest you will surely die.

You are no longer grounded. Go and apologize to your grandfather. The old coot has missed you these past weeks." With that, Master Roshi moves the TV by himself and promptly sits on the couch, turning it on. "Ah, much better." He peers at her and shoos her away. "Go on now, he's sitting out on the beach."

True to Roshi's word, Coco finds Grandpa on a chair out on the sand, watching the sun set. Racked with uncertainty, she slowly makes her way toward him, stopping next to his chair and looking out toward the crashing waves.

She bows, ninety degrees, and through the pain in her tummy she says, "I'm sorry Grandpa."

"It's a beautiful thing," Coco startles, but doesn't quite turn her head to look at him. She straightens and turns her gaze back to the ocean. "The sea. I could sit here and admire its beauty for the rest of my life. It's the simple things in life that you appreciate the most, when you get old. The beauty of nature, the beauty of a simple life...the beauty of having a family."

Coco looks up at him now. He stills looks out at the sea, the ocean breeze ruffling his mustache and clothes, his hands behind his back. His eyes are deep, focused.

"I'm very old, Coco." He says, and Coco can see. She can see it in the wrinkles of his face, the lines of age, the crows feet around his eyes and how his back isn't completely straight. "I've lived a great deal of life. I went through most of it alone. But when I saw you in those woods and took you home, my life became so much brighter. Humans need companionship, no matter where they are. It's why there are villages, cities, clusters of community everywhere you go. No one person can do everything alone. I know that better than almost anyone."

Coco can't help the tears now, but still, she remains quiet, watching him, absorbing every precious word.

"Perhaps...I have let my love for you blind me. You're my precious child, my family, after all. My little girl. But you are also a person, and I cannot ignore your mind and will any longer." He turns to her then, and Coco quickly wipes her eyes, not wanting to hurt him anymore. "I will train you, my girl. But in return, you must do one thing for me."

"Anything," she hiccups. "I'll do anything, Grandpa."

"Will you indulge an old man, and be my little girl forever?"

She can't hold back, and she throws herself into his arms. She won't sob, she won't, but the tears still stream down her cheeks anyway.

"No matter what, Grandpa, I'll always always love you. I'll always love you and take care of you and I'll do anything to make you happy! I'll never dishonor you again-"

"My girl, these past few weeks I've never been more honored to have you as my granddaughter."

And through their tears, they both smile.

From afar, Master Roshi watches from the window. Turtle shuffles in and takes a place next to the old man.

"Watching the sunset, Master? It's beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

Roshi hums in reply.

 _They've both grown, I think._

"Turtle!" Master Roshi calls. "Go to the closet and fetch that carpet."

"Which one, Master?"

"You know the one."

Once the reptile is out of the room, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the orange orb that had been burning a hole in the entirety of the day and gazes at it, contemplatively running his thumb over the smooth surface.

Four sunset red stars glimmer back at him.


End file.
